Black Holes and Revelations
by antmuzak
Summary: Ophelia Pomfrey is a healer in training, hoping to shadow her mother, the Hogwarts matron. But as she works closely with the new DADA teacher, she realizes he is more complex than anyone could imagine. OC/Trio Friendship, OC/Snape, Student/teacher. Takes place from HBP-DH and beyond. Reviews are lovely. Re-post, originally under the same name. Send any feedback or advice! -Antmuzak
1. Take a Bow

**"My life**

**You electrify my life**

**Let's conspire to ignite**

**All the souls that would die just to feel alive"**

**-"Starlight", Muse**

**Black Holes and Revelations**

**Chapter One**

***The OC Snape is with is one of his students, so yes, this story does contain a Student/Teacher romantic relationship. I am neither encouraging this kind of relationship nor writing against one, I am merely writing about it, so if you don't like it, don't read it. Thank you, enjoy!**

**A/N: Please excuse the lack of proper indentation, this format would not allow me to do that. If you know how I can fix it, please tell :)  
**

Ophelia Pomfrey cursed under her breath as she shifted her trolley backwards in an attempt to get a better running start at Platform 9 3/4, when she realized that she'd run over someone's foot. She let out a squeak and immediately pulled it back.

"I'm so sorry," she fumbled. However, when she looked up at the victim of her carelessness, her tiny lips popped open in surprise.

"Pr-professor. I'm sorry I didn't see-,"

Professor Severus Snape stood before her, arms crossed in annoyance.

"You didn't see anything," he finished, raising an eyebrow. "What are you doing here?" he asked dully.

"My mother thought I could use a couple days out of Hogwarts, I was staying at the Leaky Cauldron," Ophelia avoided his eyes.

Her mother was Poppy Pomfrey, the Hogwarts nurse, so she often stayed the summer at the school to be with her and Snape knew this.

He glared at her. "Well Miss Pomfrey, try to bite your lip a little harder," he stared pointedly at her nervous habit; "maybe you'll miss and bite your tongue. Then you'd learn your lesson," he smirked, knowing he'd won this war of wit.

"Right sir," Ophelia mumbled. There was a sound of someone clearing their throat and they both looked up to see Mrs. Narcissa Malfoy, who Ophelia had seen very few times at the train station. Behind her was her son Draco, who was doing his best to pretend he wasn't there.

"Bye," she muttered to no one in particular and went through the wall just in time to see Narcissa whisper something to Professor Snape.

When she'd reached the other side, she felt relieved. She was well mannered and all her teachers adored her, but Professor Snape was different, and she hoped to Merlin that he didn't hate her like he did most of his students.

She boarded the train, feeling like all eyes were on her. She was a Ravenclaw prefect, so she had to go sit with the other prefects in a private compartment. The other seventh year prefects hadn't arrived, but the sixth year prefects were present, including: Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson of Slytherin, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley of Gryffindor, Ernie Macmillan and Hannah Abbott of Hufflepuff, and Padma Patil and Anthony Goldstein of Ravenclaw.

Ophelia seated herself silently next to Padma, and crossed her arms stiffly. Padma tapped her on the shoulder and she jumped.

"Aren't you going to change?" Padma asked, as if embarrassed that she hadn't already done so.

Ophelia looked down at her muggle clothing: a black turtle neck sweater and a magenta skirt,"Yeah, I guess I will".

"I'll be right back," she muttered and shut the compartment door.

As she was perusing the corridors of the train, trying to locate the nearest bathroom, when she noticed a compartment that had a few of her friends in them: Luna Lovegood, Harry Potter, and Neville Longbottom.

Luna Lovegood was a strange girl. She was about Ophelia's height, though two years younger, with pale blonde hair and tiny facial features. She always looked as though in another world.

Ophelia tapped lightly on the glass of the compartment door, the corner of her mouth turned up slightly in a smile. Her friends gestured for her to join them.

Luna offered Ophelia a copy of her father's magazine and when she declined, shrugged and pulled a pair of spectrespecs onto her eyes, tilting her head as though they were whispering unheard words to her.

Conversation was scarce. Ophelia knew about the events that had occurred before last term had ended. Harry and a collection of his friends had traveled to the Ministry of Magic to save Harry's godfather, only to confront He Who Must Not Be Named, ending in the death of the man they'd attempted to save. Ophelia had never been particularly close with this group. She'd only gotten to know them when she'd joined the group Harry had started: Dumbledore's Army. She liked to spend time with Luna, Ginny Weasley, and Hermione Granger, but she wasn't entirely comfortable with Harry.

Neville, who could also no longer take the tension, spoke up.

"They're staring at us," Neville gestured outside the compartment door, where a selection of students were lurking, "because we're with you!"

Harry shook his head slightly, offering them a small smile. "They're staring at you because you were at the Ministry too. Our little adventure there was all over the Daily Prophet, you must've seen it."

"Yes, I thought Gran would be angry about all the publicity, but she was really pleased. Says I'm starting to live up to my dad at long last. She bought me a new wand, look!"

He presented a nice new wand, one which Ophelia could admire as better than her own: acacia, 11 inches, dragon-heart-string.

"I think it's the last one Ollivander ever sold, he vanished next day."

"Are we still doing DA meetings this year, Harry?" Luna asked, suddenly turning away from her magazine.

"No point now we've got rid of Umbridge, is there?" Harry shrugged.

"I liked the DA! I learned loads with you!" Neville moped.

"I enjoyed the meetings too, it was like having friends," Luna said dreamily.

Suddenly, a gaggle of girls were outside the compartment, and one was opening the door.

"You ask him!" Giggled one girl.

"No you," the other smirked.

"I'll do it". A brave girl, whom thought was from Gryffindor, stepped forward. She flung her large mass of black curls behind her back and smiled flirtatiously at Harry.

"Hi, Harry, I'm Romilda. Romilda Vane. Why don't you join us in our compartment? You don't have to sit with them," she rolled her eyes in the others' direction.

"They're friends of mine," he corrected her coldly.

"Oh," the girl pretended to look surprised, and gave each of them a glare, but Harry a sweet smile dripping with fake-ness. "Oh, okay," and she left with her posse, who looked rather disappointed.

Luna sighed. "People expect you to have cooler friends than us," she explained, as if it wasn't already clear and an uncomfortable subject.

"You are cool," Harry defended, "none of them were at the Ministry. They didn't fight with me," he gave them each an individual serious look.

It seemed that Neville, however, did not want to quit the previous topic of conversation.

"We didn't face him though. You did. You should hear my gran talk about you. "That Harry Potter's got more backbone than the whole Ministry of Magic put together! She'd give anything to have you as a grandson."

It was clear that Harry was in the most uncomfortable position possible. He laughed nervously, gulping a bit.

Harry seemed to go into space, deep in thought.

"You all right, Harry? You look funny," Neville asked.

"Sorry- I-"

"Wrackspurt got you," Luna inquired casually.

"I-what?"

"A Wrackspurt...their invisible, they float in through you ears and make your brain go fuzzy." She demonstrated this by flapping her arms like wings.

Soon their door opened yet again to enter Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger.

"Wish the lunch trolley would hurry up, I'm starving," were the first words that left Ron's lips. There was a groan of stomachs that followed, agreeing viciously.

"Hi Neville, hi Luna, hi...," Ron closed his eyes in hard thought.

"Ophelia," Hermione snapped incredulously. She rolled her eyes and took a seat next to her.

"Right, sorry," Ron muttered, not seeming too sorry. He moved on to something more interesting.

"Guess what Harry! Malfoy's not doing prefect duty, he's just sitting in his compartment with the other Slytherins, we saw him when we passed."

He announced this as if were a scandal, and Ophelia sank back in her seat, trying to go unnoticed for neglecting her own duties as a prefect.

"What did he do when he saw you?" Harry leaned in, interested.

"The usual," Ron showed them a rude hand gesture. "Not like him though. Well that," he showed it again, "is. But why isn't he out there bullying first-years?" he wondered aloud.

"Dunno," Harry frowned.

"Maybe he preferred the Inquisitorial Squad," Hermione said, "maybe being a prefect seems a bit tame after that"."

"I don't think so. I think he's-"

But then there was another knock on their door and a third-year Gryffindor entered and presented Harry, Neville, and Ophelia each with a scroll of parchment.

"I'm supposed to deliver these to Neville Longbottom, Harry Potter, and Ophelia Pomfrey," she girl stuttered. She disappeared right after.

"What is it?" Ron demanded.

"An invitation," Harry realized.

Ophelia picked up her roll and untied it.

_Ophelia Pomfrey,_

_I don't believe we've met before, but I know your mother and I will be your new Potions teacher this year. I would be delighted if you would join me for a bite of lunch in compartment C._

_Sincerly, Professor H.E.F Slughorn._

"Who's Professor Slughorn?" Neville wondered.

"New teacher," Harry shrugged, "Well, I suppose we'll have to go won't we?"

"But what does he want me for?" Neville looked terrified.

"No idea" Harry muttered, and he, Neville, and Ophelia reluctantly left their friends.

When they arrived, Slughorn greeted Harry first with a booming, "Harry, m'boy!"

"Good to see you, good to see you! And you must be Mr. Longbottom!" Neville, pale as paper, gave him an uneasy nod, eyes wide and alert.

"Ah, Miss Pomfrey, a pleasure of course, I was just talking to your mother."

She twisted her mouth in recognition and mumbled something of a greeting.

They sat down around the table, Neville tight to Harry's side, and Ophelia on his other.

"Now, do you know everyone?" Slughorn asked them, and began to introduce them.

"Blaise Zabini is in your year, of course..."

Blaise was a tall black boy from Slytherin, who stared past them, a discreet look of disgust on his face.

"This is Cormac McLaggen, perhaps you've come across each other? No?" Cormac was a tall, burly boy with curly blonde hair. Ophelia saw that his robes were Gryffindor ones, and she noted to herself that she ought to change into her own soon.

"And this is Marcus Belby, I don't know whether-?"

Neville and Harry barely looked at him twice, and gave some small shrugs. Ophelia decided to be polite and nod at him. He was a fellow Ravenclaw and had been in her Potions class last year.

"-and this charming young lady tells me she knows you, Harry!" Slughorn arrived at the last student joining us, a tall and wiry girl with dark red hair; Ginny Weasley. Harry nodded slightly, though she didn't seem to make him look any more comfortable.

"Well now, this is most pleasant. A chance to get to know you all a little better. Here, take a napkin. I've packed my own lunch, the trolley, as I remember, is heavy on Licorice Wands, and a poor old man's digestive system isn't quite up to such things...pheasant, Belby?"

Belby, looking as nervous as Neville, declined shakily.

"I was just telling young Marcus here that I had the pleasure of teaching his Uncle Damocles. Outstanding wizard, and his Order of Merlin is most deserved. Do you see much of your uncle, Marcus?"

This question seemed to surprise the boy, and he began to choke.

"Anapneo!" Ophelia was glad to have something to do. She looked satisfied at her work as the boy's throat cleared up and so he could now speak.

"Not... much of him no."

"Well, of course, I daresay he's busy! I doubt he invented the Wolfsbane Potion without considerable hard work!" Slughorn exclaimed.

"I suppose but he and my dad actually don't get on that well, you see, so I don't really know much about...," and his voice trailed off, ending the conversation.

"And this is of course Miss Pomfrey," Slughorn grinned, pointing at her, "who you must thank for clearing your airway Belby," he scolded. The boy looked mortified.

"She's an excellent healer, she is," the old man identified why he'd called her here.

Blaise snorted. "Only 'cos her mum is one."

Ophelia squirmed in her seat. She hated it when someone suggested that her talent was nothing merely because her mother was the school matron! It was as if saying that all the work she put in to training was all for nothing, and no recognition!

"Oh and is Victor Krum only an okay seeker because his mother was?"

Blaise rolled his eyes.

"Now, you, Cormac, I happen to know you see a lot of your Uncle Tiberius, because he has a rather splendid picture of the two of you hunting Nogtails in, I think, Norfolk?"

"Oh, yes, that was fun, that was. We were with Bertie Higgs and Rufus Scrimgeour- that was before he became Minister obviously-"

"Ah, you know Bertie and Rufus too? Now tell me..."

The conversation progressed from the subject of Cormac, to Blaise, to Neville, to Harry.

"And now... Harry Potter! Where to begin? I feel I barely scratched the surface when we met over the summer!"

Ophelia distanced herself from this part of the conversation, feeling pity for Harry as Slughorn began to tell the story that everyone already knew, the tragic tale of his parents' death. It must be dreadful to have everyone constantly retelling the story of his parents death, something he couldn't even remember, especially in such a patronizing manner.

Finally, they were told why Ginny was joining them.

"I saw this young lady preform the most marvellous Bat Bogey Hex as I was passing her carriage!" he explained.

Ophelia pursed her lips. Was she correct in assuming that Slughorn had formed this party to get together a bunch of talented or famous students? Very peculiar...

Slughorn looked at his wrist watch.

"Good gracious, it's getting dark already! I didn't notice that they'd lit the lamps! You'd better head back to your compartments! McLaggen, you must drop by and borrow that book on Nogtails. Harry, Blaise, Gredrick, Belby, - any time you're passing. Same goes for you Miss Weasley. Well, off you go, off you go!"

Just as Ophelia was about to exit with the others, Slughorn stopped her.

"Miss Pomfrey, may I call you? Yes! What a spectacular little get-together that was! We must have more in the future. I hear the kids calling them the 'Slug Club'," he chuckled at the notion, "and they really are just excellent. But I don't seem to have as many members as I used to, so many years back."

Ophelia nodded impatiently, "Yes, sir, that's too bad- but I'm sure you'll find more when you start teaching. Professor- I've really got to be going, I haven't changed into my robes yet and-"

"I'd really appreciate it if you could maybe suggest some of your peers that I could ask to join us next time. You are a smart girl, you know who I'd be interested in," his eyes twinkled.

He was actually asking Ophelia if she knew anyone he could favourite!

"Erm...Well, there's Hermione Granger, she's considered the brightest witch in our year. She's in Gryffindor, a friend of Harry's," Ophelia contributed hastily.

"Brilliant, brilliant!" the Professor exclaimed.

She said goodbye to him and rushed out of the compartment. If she was going to put on her robes before the train arrived, she'd better hurry.

Unfortunately for her, the bathroom in which to change in was halfway across the train and she was starting to feel the ground under her lurch.

"Oh sod it!" she cried in frustration. If she tried to change now, she'd be sent back to London!

Ophelia was sprinting at top speed down the corridors.

She had to shove open a door to the Slytherin carriage, but she didn't care, it appeared to be empty, until she heard...

"You didn't hear anything I care about, Potter. But while I've got you here..."

Just as had opened the door, she caught Draco Malfoy stomping violently on Harry's face.

She let out a terrible squeak and Draco lifted his face to give her a menacing look.

She tried to back away, but he grabbed her arm and held tight to it.

"Sod off Malfoy! What are you doing?"

He kicked high at her legs, close to her knees and she buckled down. Then he punched her in the stomach and she screamed.

"Shut it Pomfrey- you've had your day of punishment, haven't you? Almost cried when Snape told you to bite your lip a little harder didn't you? I see the way you look at him like a little puppy dog! Well guess what, not every teacher is going to fall for your act. Snape's got better things to do. And as for this punishment", he gave her stomach a gentle shove with his foot, knocking even more wind out of her, "mind that you stay out of other people's business!"

"Petrificus Totalus!" She was fully immobile now, not that she would've had the strength to get up before.

Draco gave Harry another stomp on the nose.

"That's from my father. Now let's see...," he shoved Harry and Ophelia close together so that they were touching, picked up a shimmering silver cloak and draped it across them. Ophelia had no idea what effect this had on them, but she suspected it was an invisibility cloak or a cloak with a disillusionment charm on it, so that no one could find them.

"I don't reckon they'll find you till the train's back in London. See you around Potter, Pomfrey or not..."

The next five minutes were pure agony. All Ophelia could feel was the intense bruising on her stomach and all she could hear was her own deep breathing and heart beating, although maybe it was Harry's too.

There was a swooshing sound and the cloak flew off of them.

"Hello Harry, hello Ophelia!" Luna Lovegood was standing in front of them, smiling.

Whatever spell she had used, they were both now able to move, but the pain was still there.

Harry's face was a waterfall of blood, and Ophelia could only barely ease herself up on her elbows.

"Luna, how did you know where we were?" Harry asked, holding out a hand for Ophelia to take. She gladly took it, but once standing felt extremely nauseous.

"Wrackspurts- your head's full of them," Luna grinned.

The three of them made there way to the large black gates, where no one but Snape was waiting for them. This couldn't be good.

"Quick, Luna- can you fix my nose and Ophelia's legs and stomach? I mean, have you ever fixed a nose before?" Harry asked hurriedly.

"No, but I've done several toes, and how different are they really?"

"Um. Okay, yeah, give it a go."

Luna turned to Ophelia. "You're the healer, would Episky work for this?"

Ophelia let out a hiss of pain, "Yes...but Harry, it's going to straighten your nose so that the blood can flow freely, so you'll need to clean that up. Try using a tissue of some sort to slow the flood."

Harry nodded firmly.

Luna fixed Harry's nose, and the skin on Ophelia's thighs, though her bruised stomach would have to wait, for it required different care.

Snape approached them.

"Well, well, well. Nice of you to turn up Potter, Pomfrey, Lovegood, although you have evidently decided that the wearing of school robes would detract from your appearances."

"I couldn't change, I didn't have my-" Harry began. But Snape interrupted him.

"And Miss Pomfrey, a prefect too. Tsk tsk. What will your mother think, I wonder?"

"Professor, I'm really sorry," Ophelia took a more sincere and polite route, "but I saw Harry in trouble and-" Harry was giving her a mortified look, shaking his head and widening his eyes.

Snape chuckled bitterly. "Mr. Potter doesn't need your help, girl, I can assure you that. He is his own hero."

Harry looked enraged, but before he could open his mouth and blurt out something he'd soon regret, Snape's face curled into a smirk.

"Perfect, that's three detentions on the first day, I believe."

They began to make their way to the castle, walking up the steep winding hill that the carriages normally took, sinking their feet in mud.

"Fifty points from each person, I believe, for lateness, twenty for your Muggle attire. So that's seventy from Gryffindor, and one hundred and forty from Ravenclaw..."

When they'd arrived, Snape hissed, "now off with you. Ah look, there's the staff table- just the right place to talk to your Head of houses."

Ophelia rushed over to the Ravenclaw table and sat down beside Luna.

"Welcome back Ophelia," she muttered bitterly to herself, prodding a few vegetables with her fork.


	2. Starlight

**"My life**

**You electrify my life**

**Let's conspire to ignite**

**All the souls that would die just to feel alive"**

**-"Starlight", Muse**

**Black Holes and Revelations**

**Chapter Two**

***The OC Snape is with is one of his students, so yes, this story does contain a Student/Teacher romantic relationship. I am neither encouraging this kind of relationship nor writing against one, I am merely writing about it, so if you don't like it, don't read it. Thank you, enjoy!**

***Please don't judge my OC right away. Ophelia is a nervous, flutter-y sort of girl. I don't want you to call her a Mary-Sue, in fact, doesn't it make her more realistic if she has the awkward qualities that a teenage girl often does? We'll see more of her true character and personality as the story goes on. Please give her a chance.**

Ophelia sank into her four-poster bed in the girls dormitory of Ravenclaw Tower. The deep blue sheets and crisp pillows were comfort enough, but not quite a full distraction from the day's events.

She detested conflict, especially when it discredited her. She wasn't one to get in trouble, and now she'd have to explain herself to her mother. There was no avoiding the wrath of Poppy Pomfrey, especially when she was your mother and she expected you to visit her at least once a day.

Ophelia hoped to shadow her mother once she'd graduated, and become a healer of her own making. She loved healing, she loved every little element of it: the problem, the challenge of figuring out what needed to be done, the selection of spells, charms, and potions to help the patient, and the final result where she could see the tangible outcome of her effort. However, she was less than eager to spend so much time under her mother's wing. More than anything, she wanted to have freedom. Even if just for a small time.

* * *

"Opheliaaaaa," a sing-song voice right by her ear made Ophelia jolt upward out of her sleep.

Luna Lovegood, dressed in her uniform and robes, one sock slightly lower than the other, was waiting patiently for her friend to rise.

"Oh...hi there Luna," Ophelia squinted, disgruntled.

"Are you ready for the first classes of the term?" Luna grinned, clutching her book bag.

"Of course, loony," Ophelia joked. She was close enough with Luna to playfully call her names.

Truthfully, Ophelia loved school. She loved starting new classes, and she loved earning the respect and praise of her teachers, save for that of Professor Snape -so far.

She changed into her uniform, and made sure to pull up her socks so she wouldn't look like Luna did.

Luna was only in her fifth year, and Ophelia in her seventh, so they didn't share any classes together. Saying goodbye to her friend, and heading off to her next class, Ophelia remembered to turn into the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom.

In her N.E.W.T year, Ophelia had less classes and more study breaks. The classes she did have were: Potions, Transfiguration, Charms, Herbology, Arithmancy, History of Magic, and Defence Against the Dark Arts. However, she had been given a chance to work as a teacher's assistant in one of her periods. Originally, she'd planned to help out in Professor Snape's potions class, but, as had been revealed at last night's feast, he was, in fact, the D.A.D.A teacher this term, and she'd be helping out in that class instead.

Upon her arrival, she waited patiently in the shadows of the door. She knew Snape could sense her presence, but she wanted to be tender with her entrance. She had already earned a detention with him.

Snape was bent over a roll of parchment, eyes furiously focused on what he was writing.

Without looking up from his task, he asked, "Can I help you Miss Pomfrey?"

She shuffled forward through the doorway to the empty classroom.

"Yes Professor...erm- I'm your assistant in this period," she admitted.

Snape's fingers paused abruptly and he placed his quill back in the ink pot. His eyes flickered to her direction. It seemed as though he were confused or startled by this information, but he merely shook away this initial reaction and quipped a typical reply.

"On time? I never would have dreamed I'd see the day. Pity you can't make up to your mother's standards. It's not as though she can afford to be late, healing people..."

She stifled a cough. Excellent. Just what she needed.

"Of course not, sir," she mumbled.

"Is there something I can help you with?" Ophelia didn't like when she came across as pathetic and limp. Her personality tended to wane when people insulted her. She tried to reestablish a presence as a responsible teacher's aid.

Snape adjusted the cuffs of his robes and rose, towering over the girl.

"Get all the desks and chairs ready," he demanded, walking over to the board.

Ophelia bowed her head in obedience and scurried off to comply.

As she was placing the last chair in place, she saw Snape rise from his seat. He proceeded to make his way to the door, his black cape flapping around, grabbing the air.

Ophelia stopped her movements, standing quite still, tilting her head ever so slightly, wondering what she should do.

"Well come along," Snape sighed, unimpressed.

Snape lead the way to a room down one floor. It was a small, cramped room with a large wooden desk, an armchair, and an assortment of books and potions. Snape's office.

"Stand here," he commanded, pointing right next to his desk, "and sort through these. I need them in alphabetical order."

He handed her a collection of forms, each with different students names and information on them.

Snape sat down at his chair.

"Each Head of House is calling their sixth year students for a short session in which to decide which classes they should carry on with and which classes, let's say...they should not," he smirked at the notion, as if failing students were a nostalgic and pleasant thought.

She mumbled something of a 'yes sir' sort of response, and delicately organized the papers as so.

* * *

"That's the last of the Slytherin students," Snape announced as a Blaise Zabini slithered out the door.

Ophelia nodded subtly and shuffled the papers back into a neat pile, handing them to her Professor.

"You're a bit of a robot, aren't you?" Snape muttered.

"What-what's a robot?" Ophelia asked, not sure whether to be offended or not.

"Oh...nothing-hmmr...'s just a muggle thing," he seemed annoyed that he'd even mentioned it.

As they headed back to the D.A.D.A classroom, Ophelia couldn't help but wonder what in the name of Merlin a robot was. This entire 'teacher's aid' situation was beginning to sour. It felt odd, being on the other end of the spectrum. Admittedly, Snape was a consistent man when it came to how he treated people- she hadn't expected any more respect. But there was something odd about her position- he couldn't quite treat her the same way that he could any other student.

"Pomfrey are you listening to me?" Snape growled.

Ophelia snapped her head up, realizing she'd had her chin rested in the palm of her hand, leaned against one of the desks.

"Sorry sir, could you repeat that?" She tried to say this as if it were a request, as if she wasn't trying so hard to impress him.

"I asked you if you could pull down the blinds, the sun is coming up," he said this grudgingly, as if the sun would be his demise.

"Of course, sir," she hurried to do as he had asked.

"Anything else sir?" She asked eagerly, standing on the balls of her feet.

"That will be all."

Ophelia's feet fell and she quickly balanced herself before he'd notice.

She refused eye contact, blushing furiously, but she could sense that he'd rolled his eyes.

"Bloody brilliant," she whispered to herself.

* * *

Ophelia sat at the Gryffindor table for lunch.

Hermione was taking out all the books from her bag and reorganizing them so they'd fit better and be 'more convenient for access'.

Ophelia was buttering a piece of bread when Ginny reached the table with her new boyfriend, Dean Thomas. Harry shifted slightly in his seat.

"And Arithmancy will be so much more challenging as we draw into our NEWT year!" Hermione was chatting excitedly, "I think it'll be much more up to my speed. What do you think, Ophelia?"

Ophelia had to turn her head away from the staff table, where she'd been glancing at her mother, wondering what sort of punishment she'd have to face when she visited her that evening. Upon moving her gaze away, she noticed Snape. She really noticed Snape. Everything about him seemed so different now. He appeared so much more human. She raised her eyebrow at how uncomfortable he looked, in the company of everyone else. She knew that feeling.

"Hmm? Oh yes, Arithmancy is great that way. Professor Vector doesn't waste our time, she's really focused on challenging our intellects. You'll love it," she assured the younger student.

"Charn er essk whyr yer herr?"

Ophelia realized Ron had directed this piece of dialogue toward her.

The boy swallowed his mouthful of food and repeated his question.

"Can I ask why you're here? At the Gryffindor table?"

"Oh," Ophelia ducked her head a bit, her messy brown hair eclipsing her sight.

"Well, erm, I dunno."

She did have to wonder why, all of a sudden, she found herself trailing off after Harry, Ron, and Hermione. She'd been on a friendly basis with the three, especially after being a part of the D.A. However, she couldn't quite understand why she felt so drawn to the group lately. Shouldn't she be sitting with her fellow Ravenclaws? Padma was pleasant enough, if a bit dull. Ophelia used to date Terry Boot, but she wouldn't mind starting up a small-talk sort of conversation with him. Isn't the weather nice? How are all your classes?

Her face fell. Merlin, that sounded dreadfully boring. She supposed the only time she'd ever really socialized was with Luna. Even then, their friendship tended to be a solitary sort of arrangement: walking to class along-side Luna, studying with her by the fires of the Ravenclaw common room, occasionally discussing their homework, and attending the Hogsmead weekend events with her, browsing for sweets.

"Well, whatever reason, you're always welcome," Harry smiled warmly, his eyes traveling only slightly to Ginny and her boyfriend.

Ophelia opened her mouth to let out some sort of equally gracious exchange, when she was interrupted by the bell for next period.

The others headed off to class and she waved goodbye stiffly.

* * *

The next day, the class Ophelia would be helping in was the Sixth Year's D.A.D.A class.

She'd arrived early in order to impress Snape, but was given no such recognition. He simply nodded when she entered, and directed her toward a few pictures he wanted to hang on the walls before the class arrived.

She wrinkled her nose and the morbid themes of the pictured, all showing people in different positions of pain or torture. She hung them as straight as she could, careful that they would be in reasonable view of all the students at their desks.

Following this, as commanded, she lit several candles, which she placed around the room, supplying one of the few light sources the room needed because of the darkened windows.

"Just...sit in the corner until I need you. The first lesson will be mostly theory, anyway."

Ophelia obediently bent her body into an awkward sitting position. As the class filed in, she recognized Harry, Hermione, Ron, and a selection of other students in their year.

Harry and Ron took seats next to each other, while Hermione, noticing Ophelia, snaked closer to her.

"What are you doing here?" she whispered.

Ophelia blinked rapidly. Hermione was talking to her...again. She swallowed a grin.

"I'm the teacher's aid for this period," she responded casually, hoping to avoid the wrath of Snape.

"You volunteered to work with Snape?" Hermione seemed rather cynical of this.

"Well...I thought I'd be in a Potions class. I love Potions..." Ophelia's words drifted off, dripping in fondness.

"You shouldn't talk to me, I don't want to get you in trouble," Ophelia said, turning back to face Snape, who was stalking to the front of the class as each student settled in their seats.

"The Dark Arts," Snape introduced grimly, " are many, varied, ever-changing, and eternal. Fighting them is like fighting a many-headed monster, which, each time a neck is severed, sprouts a head even fiercer and cleverer than before. You are fighting that which is unfixed, mutating, indestructible."

Hermione's eyes narrowed, Ophelia noticed. She wondered whether it was something of concentration, or if she had some sort of doubt of what Snape was saying. Ophelia couldn't see why. Honestly, Snape seemed to have an excellent grasp on the topic, she might even go as far as to think that he had a passion for it, similar to that of hers to healing.

Raising his voice, he proceeded.

"Your defences must therefore be as flexible and inventive as the arts you seek to undo."

He made his over to the picture Ophelia had hung. Thinking quickly, she scampered over to them with a candle, illuminating the pictures so the students could see them.

Snape's lips quivered only slightly, as if he might protest, but continued on his lecture.

"These pictures," he gestured to them, "give a fair representation of what happens to those who suffer, for instance, the Cruciatus Curse," he pointed to the picture of the women being tormented by an unseen force, "feel the Dementor's Kiss", this time it was of a man, backed up against a wall, with a sullen, petrified look, "or provoke the aggression of the Inferius", the final picture portrayed the horror of the inferi: masses of bloody bodies, arms outreached.

The lesson continued with Snape making references to the recent attacks which Ophelia had read about in The Daily Prophet. He talked at length, walking around the room dramatically. He was, without doubt, in his true element. He seemed at ease talking about this subject, as if it something pleasant.

As the students left the classroom, Ophelia nodded a friendly goodbye to Hermione, Ron, and Harry. But as Hermione was walking past her, Ophelia felt her touch her arm, pulling her away from the swarm of students leaving the class.

"What have you got next?" Hermione asked.

"Charms."

"Well then, why don't you join us at our table again for dinner?" she offered.

Ophelia's eyes lit up

"That would be great. Are you sure you don't mind?"

Hermione smiled, patting her friend's arm again.

"Of course not. The world's a scary place right now...it shouldn't hurt to have one more friend."

Flames flickered in Ophelia's dark green eyes, lapping up all the excitement, and causing a fire in her heart.

"I'll be there," she promised.

As Hermione left, struggling to keep her heavy book bag from knocking into the other students, Ophelia caught, in the corner of her eye, Snape with raised eyebrows and a sneer on his pale face. Ophelia knew he had a strong dislike for Harry and his friends. She wanted to pretend she didn't care, but somehow it bothered her.

"Professor, I have to get to class...is there anything else I can help you with?"

Snape looked up from his resumed place at his desk, solemn as always.

"That will be all," he declared.

**A/N: This wasn't my best work, I recognize there are a few awkward sentences. Hopefully this will get a few more reviews/favourites/alerts from you guys! If you see any specific mistake you think I should fix, please feel free to let me know. Any suggestions for future chapters would be nice as well!**


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